


The Trifecta

by raiast



Series: The Bucket List [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Plug, Coming In Pants, Coming in Public, Dominant Hannibal, Established Relationship, Frottage, Hannibal is kinky af, Hannibal wants to try all the things, Kink Discovery, M/M, Murder, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Rimming, Voyeurism(ish), Will digs it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2019-11-01 20:25:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17874275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiast/pseuds/raiast
Summary: “If you are still inclined to assist me with my list, I have a few items that might be accomplished simultaneously.”Will felt a huff of breath leave him, only partially in amusement. “I suppose it’s out of the question for me to know what you’re planning before I commit to it?”Hannibal’s low hum buzzed across Will’s flesh, eliciting a pleasant jerk from his limbs as the sensation jolted through his nerves. “Where else would lie the fun?”OrHannibal is anxious to stay on top of his ever growing list, decides that multitasking is the most efficient method.





	1. Ten, Seventeen, Twenty-One

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back with more kinky stuff my lovely readers. I have to say I am blown away at the support I've received for this series with only two installments. Thank you! Your kudos, comments and bookmarks make my day! 
> 
> Heads-up for a brief moment containing homophobic activity--obviously not from either of our IIL (Idiots In Love). Nothing over the top but I know that it bothers some people greatly (as well it should).
> 
> Without further ado, please enjoy Hannibal and Will doing all the things!

Despite all of the heartache and torment, Will remained grateful for all that had transpired between himself and Hannibal. Experience was the one thing that gave him an edge against Hannibal’s unfailing charm. It was only because of this, because of being intimately familiar with Hannibal’s manipulations, that he was able to dredge up any suspicion at all when the man in question, purportedly without agency, sidled up to Will one afternoon as he sat tying fishing lures and draped heavy arms around his shoulders. He leaned down to brush his lips along the column of Will’s neck, worrying at an earlobe gently before sighing carelessly, “If you are still inclined to assist me with my list, I have a few items that might be accomplished simultaneously.”

Will felt a huff of breath leave him, only partially in amusement. “I suppose it’s out of the question for me to know what you’re planning before I commit to it?”

Hannibal’s low hum buzzed across Will’s flesh, eliciting a pleasant jerk from his limbs as the sensation jolted through his nerves. “Where else would lie the fun?” he murmured in response as he mouthed hot, wet kisses back down Will’s throat to the junction of neck and shoulder. The hard suck he left there pulled a soft whimper and full-body shiver from Will. “You did recently tell me that you trusted me,” the infuriating man pointed out.

Well he couldn’t deny that, though he was positive that Hannibal knew what difference there may be between Will trusting him with his life, well-being and happiness and... _this_. Instead of slipping into what would certainly be a frustrating debate on the subject, Will settled on refusing to indulge his nerves and acquiescing to Hannibal’s desires. After all, the list had yet to lead him into unpleasant territory. He also couldn’t deny the thrill of anticipating the unknown. He never used to be like this, had always striven for comfortable, predictable; Hannibal, it seemed, was having an influence. Will turned in his seat, seeking those warm lips with his own.

He sighed against Hannibal’s mouth. “I don’t suppose I can trade my cooperation for knowing what twenty-eight is?”

Since the first time Will had pointed it out, Hannibal had been staunchly against adding it to the slew of numbers they had ticked off the list (which had migrated from residing in whatever trousers Hannibal was wearing to a more permanent home on the fridge). If Will would bring it up, Hannibal would wave it off, citing that they weren’t prepared--he had the distinct feeling that Hannibal was really saying that _Will_ wasn’t prepared, which only fed his insatiable curiosity when Hannibal refused to tell him what the item even was.

Hannibal’s only response was a steady gaze and the slight tick of a pale eyebrow that might as well have said ‘what do you think?’. One of these days Will was going to lose it and pin the man down until he gave up some answers.

“What do you want me to do?” He tried not to feel defeat in the face of Hannibal’s triumphant smile.

“Shower, to begin with. We’ll be dining out for dinner this evening.”

\---

“Uhh...Hannibal?” Will called out. He stood before the bed, skin still damp from his shower with naught on but a towel slung low around his hips. He eyed the navy jacket and trousers draped upon it warily, turning a suspicious gaze to his lover when he appeared in the doorway. “What’s this?”

“Your suit,” Hannibal replied plainly, as though he were confused that Will needed to ask at all.

“Tailored to my measurements, I assume,” Will stated, sure even before he spoke that Hannibal would have him in nothing less.

Hannibal confirmed this with a slightly confused sounding, “Of course.”

“Right,” Will nodded. “And _how_ , exactly, did you obtain my measurements?”

Hannibal gave a soft snort, striding into the room and halting just behind Will, one hand trailing lightly down his spine. “You’re a sound sleeper when well sated, my love.” He leaned forward to mouth hotly down the column of Will’s throat; he resisted the visceral full-body shiver that the sensation threatened to release. For a moment, he considered telling his lover how creepy that was, knew that it would yield nothing in his favor, nor change event that had already come to pass. “I would have you wear one more thing, before you don the suit,” Hannibal murmured into his ear, catching the lobe to tease with his teeth briefly before pulling away.

Will turned to watch him disappear into the walk-in closet in the corner of their room warily, hesitant gaze glued to the box in Hannibal’s hands as he approached him once more. Rather than pass the whole thing over to him, Hannibal’s deft hands simply lifted the lid to present the contents to him.

Will’s breath caught in his chest, his throat working automatically to swallow thickly at the sight before him. He was surprised that his first instinct was not outright refusal, but to reach out to lift the item within. Arousal flared warmly and twisted in Will’s gut at the weight of the steel in his hands, a toy of considerable thickness (though not as thick as Hannibal himself), sculpted into an elegant curve (as though Hannibal would purchase a sex toy that wasn’t the picture of elegance). He knew that the plug was designed to curve within him to tease at his prostate, the material hefty enough to remind him of its existence even if it wasn’t hitting its mark, and his mouth went dry at the realization. His throat clicked as he swallowed once more, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, and instead of telling Hannibal that this was madness, that he couldn’t _possibly_ go out in public with such an item within him, he turned wanting eyes to his lover and asked softly, “Will you put it in?”

Hannibal gave him a pleased smile, reaching a hand to twist into Will’s damp curls and pull him forwards into a heated kiss. He pulled the plug from Will’s grasp, tugged at the towel around his waist until it dropped to the floor. “On the bed. Mind the suit,” he instructed, nodding his head to the opposite side that was still laid bare for them. Will obeyed wordlessly, climbing onto the bed and settling onto his forearms and knees with his spine arched beautifully, presenting his ass as he knew Hannibal wanted. A vague part of him thrilled at the thought of what was to come from the evening. Most of him was just hungry for Hannibal to penetrate him, whether it be with fingers, cock or toy.

He was utterly surprised, then, that it was the wet heat of Hannibal’s tongue that touched him first. He cried out, a shudder running down his spine even as he canted his hips back, wordlessly demanding more. His head dropped down to rest upon his hands clutched in the duvet, panting with need as blood surged south to thicken his hanging cock. Hannibal’s hands appeared to knead at the globes of his ass before grasping his flesh tightly to spread him, bringing his tongue down to drag across Will’s hole in two more hot stripes before pointing the muscle to spear teasingly against his entrance.

“Nng-- _Hannibal_ ,” Will gasped, his hips wiggled instinctively against his mouth and Hannibal’s hands tightened upon his flesh, halting his movements. He continued his assault upon Will’s hole, taking his time to work him open with naught but his mouth, and Will felt a frustrated sob welling up in his chest in response. He wanted Hannibal _inside_ him. He _knew_ that Hannibal knew that. And yet…”Fuck, Hannibal, _please_ ,” it was an attempt at a demand, ending more as a whining keen as Hannibal’s tongue slipped inside him briefly once more. His cock hung painfully hard now, dripping with arousal and desperate for friction and release.

Hannibal gave a low hum against his hole, the sound sent an impossibly erotic buzz through Will’s core, and then finally pulled away. Will’s lungs were heaving for breath, could hear over it still the sound of Hannibal dipping into the nightstand drawer and the telltale click as the top of the lube was popped open. Hannibal mouthed open kisses along the swell of Will’s ass lazily, “You are beautiful like this,” he murmured against his skin. “You have always suffered so beautifully, Will.”

The words pulled a small whine from Will’s throat, and before he could find the ability to speak and demand, _beg_ , for Hannibal to get on with it, the next thing he felt was the sensation of cool, slick steel as it probed lightly at his entrance. Hannibal seemed to have had enough of teasing Will--perhaps they had reservations to keep--for once he deemed Will sufficiently prepared he slid the plug into him in one steady thrust. Will groaned at the sensation of finally being filled, let out a gasping whimper as the toy settled home and, as predicted, rubbed deliciously against his prostate.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Will panted as the probing sent a squirm through him, which only caused it to rub more insistently into him. Blinding shocks of arousal shot up his spine at the tease, pulling a sob from Will once more. “Fuck, I’m gonna come…” he whined.

In the space of a moment he was hauled up to his knees, a hand wrapped tightly around his throat and pulled flush against Hannibal’s chest. “You will _not_ ,” warm breath against the shell of his ear instructed him. Hannibal’s other hand wrapped around him to squeeze tight at the base of Will’s cock, staving off any hope of release, and Will gave another pitiful whine as he arched back into the solid form behind him. “You will pull yourself together and get dressed. You will unearth what few manners you have and join me for dinner.”

This Hannibal, this authoritative, demanding, _dominant_ Hannibal, was utterly new to Will. He hadn’t seen the like of this creature since he was pain-hazed and weak from blood loss, knees crumpling to wet sand in exhaustion before Hannibal was at his side, hauling him up, _refusing_ to let him quit moving forward--

A pleased shiver flowed through Will’s body like cool liquid, his cock only aching ever harder at his lover’s brusqueness despite the command to quell his arousal.

All at once Hannibal released him, weight shifting off of the bed as he disappeared from behind Will. His body sagged from the lack of support for only a moment before Hannibal was in front of him, hauling Will’s head up to face him with a firm grip to his chin. Hannibal’s eyes were hard when Will met his gaze, flashing with the dominance that had just held his body pliant. “You will come with my cock within you or not at all, Will. Do you understand?”

Will swallowed, well aware that his cheeks were blazing hot with the flush that was quickly spreading down to his chest. He jerked his head in as much of a nod as Hannibal’s grip allowed, and all at once he was released once more.

“Wonderful,” his tone was clipped but pleased as he straightened. Will stared forward in shock but could see the movement of Hannibal straightening his tie in his peripheral vision. “In five minutes we will be leaving this house regardless of what state you find yourself in. I suggest you begin dressing,” Hannibal informed him as he strode smoothly from the room.

Will considered, very briefly, the success of having a surreptitious wank and getting fully dressed in five minutes. He sighed, knowing that Hannibal would be able to smell his release even if he were able to pull it off in the time allotted. He rose from the bed slowly, stepping gingerly over to the other side to where his suit was still laid out for him. The plug shifted with seemingly malicious intent with every movement, regardless of how carefully it was enacted. The only bright spot was that the cool metal had finally warmed within him, removing one distraction at least.

Will sighed and set to dressing, opting for briefs rather than boxers in a last ditch effort to save the public eye from his raging erection for the evening. He was just finishing knotting his tie when Hannibal appeared in the doorway to collect him, giving a soft hum of approval before gesturing for him to follow. Will took a deep breath, tightening the muscles in the lower half of his body as if it might save him any torment, and followed.

\---

Hannibal had mercy on him and called a car to collect them. Their villa wasn’t far off the outskirts of town--they had made the walk on foot more often than not when going to the market--but in his current state (which he had yet to calm completely) and with his current...hindrance...Will was sure he would have been barely limping along before they got to the restaurant.

It was an intimate little place, fancy enough for Will not to be surprised that Hannibal had selected it. It was a blessing and a curse to be seated in a far corner, apart enough from nearby tables to give them some privacy but forcing Will to (attempt to) saunter casually through almost the entirety of the restaurant in order to reach it. The plug jostled and nudged with every step, sending bolts of agonizing pleasure up his spine, and Will had his teeth gritted together so tightly it was a wonder they didn’t shatter. There was already a fine sheen of sweat developing on his brow and neck by the time they were sitting down.

Will settled in his seat and immediately swept up a menu to shield his scarlet face from the other patrons. “I swear to God, Hannibal,” he breathed, low enough that only the amused man across from him could hear, “I promised you a reckoning once but this-- _this--_ is unforgivable. You _will_ pay.”

“With my sweat and tears, I am sure,” Hannibal purred across from him, and had the audacity to nudge his foot playfully beneath the table. Will gave him a swift kick back, which only served to elongate the smirk that twisted delicious lips. “Do try and enjoy the evening,” he requested casually, as if Will was being petulant for no reason other than to spite him. “It _is_ our first outing, after all, and you do look…” he paused, and Will didn’t need to look up from the foreign menu to know that his gaze was sweeping over him, “...quite fetching in that suit.”

Will was hot and hard and incredibly uncomfortable, physically, emotionally _and_ mentally, and it was all because of Hannibal and his damn kinky list that led to Will sitting in a public setting being slowly-- _painfully_ slowly--worked to orgasm by anal plug designed for torture as much as for pleasure. And he _preened_ at the compliment. He bristled at the realization, which only further shifted the toy against his prostate, and a breathless squeak sounded in his throat.

“GoddamnitIfuckinghateyou,” the sentence was muttered in a single breath, mostly for his own benefit, though he could tell that Hannibal had heard it from the way that his foot lifted to rub lovingly against his ankle. Instinctively, and it was a wonder what a complete mistake instincts could be sometimes, Will jerked back from his touch and straightened in his chair. This led to another insistent prod, as well as his fitted trousers pulling into a choking hold over his swelling cock, which pulled a surprised sound from his throat that was part whimper, part moan, and entirely audible to the table nearest them, if the scandalized glances were any indication.

Will glared at Hannibal across the table. Hannibal had raised his own menu to hide his grin.

Will became wise to the game--the game in question, of course, being Statue--and let the evening and meal progress naturally while remaining as unnaturally still as he could. He ate with delicate movements, possibly for the first time in his life and assuredly to Hannibal’s great delight. He nursed his wine so that he would not be forced to excuse himself to the restroom which, conveniently, was nearer to the entrance than to their table, and would ensure he walked the span of the restaurant twice over. Hannibal and his subtle-not-so-subtle comments were not helping the matter. Even when Will could hold a position that found respite from the toy inside him, his mind was constantly being pulled back to what would await him at home.

He couldn’t say how long they had stayed or the quality of the meal or even what he had eaten, beyond that it was some kind of fish, but finally Hannibal was calling for the check and they were leaving (very carefully, in Will’s case), and then they were outside and afforded some semblance of privacy once again.

The warm, humid air of the evening provided absolutely no relief for a sweating, trembling Will. Hannibal reached between them to ensare Will’s fingers with his own and casually led them through streets semi-busy with the nightlife of Matanzas. Just as Will was beginning to fear that Hannibal intended for them to walk all the way home, he tugged Will into a darkened alley, far enough in that those on the streets would not notice them unless they should peer directly in as they passed.

His back was against brick before he could really discern what was happening, his front caged in by Hannibal’s lean body pressing against him. A hot, wet mouth swooped in to mouth along his neck, a firm thigh forcing its way between Will’s legs, grinding up and forward and--

“ _Fuck_! Stop, I’m--I won’t be able to--”

Hannibal moved his mouth from teasing at Will’s pulse point to covering his own, silencing his protests as he rubbed with intention against him. “I adore that you would wish to keep my commandment,” Hannibal breathed against Will’s slack mouth. “But I find I’ve changed my mind. I think I should like to see you undone now. Here.”

He emphasized the last word by snaking an arm around him and pressing forcefully against the plug. White heat blazed through Will, clouding his vision.

“ _Hanni--_ ” Hannibal covered his mouth once more, drinking up the whimpered cry as though it could sustain him.

“Watch out, Will,” he breathed lowly, pressing forward more forcefully in his grind against Will’s hips. “We’re still in public, after all,” he warned, as though it were entirely too conspicuous for Will to say his name out loud but not for Hannibal to practically fuck him against the wall of an alley. He pressed their foreheads together, heaving breaths mingling and causing their lips to brush just slightly against each other’s. “Come for me,” he murmured, and Will wanted to.

And Hannibal wanted him to. Wanted him to in public. So badly, in fact, that he constructed this entire situation so that he might. Will pulled back from Hannibal’s mouth so quickly that his skull met brick and he saw white for a different reason momentarily. _I have power here_ , he reminded himself before Hannibal could conquer him once more.

“Twenty-eight,” he gasped, and while he had been strong enough to pull from Hannibal’s kiss he found that his body was working entirely against him and had settled into a beautifully rhythmic grind against the solid form before him. When Hannibal simply frowned down at him, Will said it again. “Twenty-eight. Tell me what it is, at least. We don’t--nngh--” his voice broke as Hannibal contented himself with playing dirty and began nudging at the toy in his ass once again. “We don’t have to do it right now, just--oh, God, _yes_ \--just, just tell me what it is. What is twenty-eight?”

His body had been pushed right to the edge. He balanced on a precipice, knowing that letting himself tilt and fall would only lead to immeasurable pleasure and yet standing still all the same. Hannibal had put a plug in him to tease him all night, threatening release only by his cock, intent on Will honing his patience and self-control. It was only fair that he traded patience for patience. He had waited to cum until Hannibal wanted him to, but he would wait for answers no longer.

Hannibal paused for a split second, caught off guard by the demand, it seemed, and then redoubled his efforts, giving a low growl when it did not yield Will’s orgasm. He leaned in further to suffocate the younger man beneath him, teeth catching Will’s earlobe in a sharp nip before relenting and growling, “I want to hunt with you.”

“Fuck,  _fuck_ ,” Will cried out, somehow bowing forward into Hannibal and arching back against the solid wall behind him simultaneously. That was _not_ what he had been expecting, nor would he have expected such a statement to pull such visceral pleasure from him. He gave a wordless keen as his cock spasmed in his tailored trousers, jerking with the intensity of his release before sagging back against the wall and laughing breathlessly.

“I thought…Christ, Hannibal, the way you were avoiding the subject I thought it was going to be some kind of like...freaky super-kink,” he gasped out. He tilted his head back against the wall and huffed another breath of laughter even as a lazy smile stretched across his mouth. He gazed up at his lover, happy to find mirth on his expression as well, though whether it were from Will’s release or his reaction to the topic he couldn’t say.

Warm hands came up to tangle in his sweaty curls, beckoning his mouth to meet Hannibal’s which it did, gladly. Their lips parted to let tongues greet each other like old friends, tangling slowly and deeply with absolutely none of the urgency that had been driving them moments before. Will was aware of Hannibal’s warm form pressing him back into cool stone, their limbs and tongues entwining, and heavy, crunching footsteps turning into the alley and growing nearer.

He was certain Hannibal was aware of the interloper, but he paid him no mind and so Will continued his melding with his lover, content to ignore the man that seemed to have no intention but to pass through--

Until he passed them by, hissed, “ _Maricones_ ,” with a soft huff of disgust and spit a wad of saliva at the ground near their feet before continuing past them without breaking his stride.

The both of them froze in the same instant, their gazes turning slowly to the back of the retreating man. Will was far from fluent in Spanish but he knew an insult when he heard one, and this one happened to be particularly vile. From Hannibal’s reaction, it was clear he had understood as well.

“Well, that was rude,” Will breathed softly.

“Inexcusably,” Hannibal murmured his agreement.

Will wet his lips, turning his attention back to the man that still had him wrapped in his embrace. “So. Twenty-eight,” he began, dropping back into the previous topic as though they had been mid-discussion. “I could be amenable to that. One condition--get this fuckin’ toy outta me so I can walk.”

Pure hunger blazed through Hannibal’s eyes as his lips quirked into a grin.


	2. Bonus Round: Twenty-Eight

The removal of the toy was not nearly as erotic as when Hannibal had inserted it in him earlier in the evening. Due in part, perhaps, because it was done in a rushed manner in the bowels of a dank alley. And partly because jostling his pants around only served to remind Will that he had an obscene amount of come cooling in his briefs. He thanked the combination of low light and dark trousers, which would conceal his dilemma from anyone they passed, in spite of being reminded of it himself with every sticky step. Hannibal had pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped up the plug in a no-nonsense manner, tucking it into his pocket and beckoning for Will to follow him to the opposite end of the alley where the brute had disappeared around the corner.

It was lucky for them that the man didn’t appear to be keeping a brisk pace, and that Hannibal seemed to have caught his scent. Even after their initial delay it took only a few turns in as many minutes to catch sight of the man again. They hung back, meandering at a casual pace, hands clasped and fingers laced together as though they were merely a pair of lovers out for a nice stroll. It wasn’t too far off, really. Will let Hannibal set the pace, halting them at corners to pull him into a slow kiss and allow their prey to slip a little farther ahead before continuing. Will had a feeling that had they been en route in vehicles Hannibal still would have known the exact distance to follow at in which to remain innocuous while simultaneously keeping hot on the trail.

They didn’t have far to follow. Soon enough they were pausing at another corner, watching the man cross the street and veering towards the first apartment building as he dug keys out of his pocket. The building was a smaller brick structure, three stories high and only about half a block deep. It didn’t look particularly run down, but it certainly wasn’t on the higher end either. From their position against the corner building opposite they could see the man pause in the entryway of the building and use his keys to open a mailbox. He paused to rifle through the contents before tossing something away and unlocking the second door that would allow entrance to the building.

Hannibal waited the space of a few heartbeats as the man disappeared within and then murmured, “Wait here,” ducking around the corner before Will could even reply. As soon as he was free from the cover of shadows Hannibal’s form straightened all at once, taking on a casual air as he strode towards the building and entered it with purpose. It was quite a thing to see Hannibal cloaked in his person suit again. It only served to show Will how much he appreciated the real thing. 

He studied the building and scanned the surrounding area as he waited; despite it not being very late there didn’t seem to be many people out at all. He was half-wishing he smoked so that he might look more casual standing alone on a street corner, but no one seemed to pay him any mind regardless. His gaze flicked up to the second floor where a light had just illuminated the corner window when he realized that Hannibal was approaching. He turned and began walking back the way they’d come, the good doctor catching up to him easily with long strides.

“Second floor, corner unit,” Will murmured as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers; the gesture only served to remind him once more that his pants and underwear were less than dry.

Hannibal hummed beside him, affecting his position and slipping his hands into his pockets casually. “201. Marco Alvarez. The building’s residents have a habit of tossing their junk mail onto a counter in the mail room.”

“Could be a previous resident,” Will pointed out with a slight shrug.

Hannibal gave another soft sound, this time in disagreement, though he seemed pleased that the thought had occurred to Will. “Unlikely, unless the pig was so lazy as to neglect to change the name plate on the associated buzzer.”

Will nodded at the information, his mind flying in several different directions at once. It seemed almost laughable that twenty minutes prior his biggest problem was his lover forcing him to orgasm in public. Now they were planning a hunt. Funny, how things could change just that quickly where Hannibal was concerned.

“Let’s get home,” Will suggested, quickening his pace. “I’d like to learn more about Señor Alvarez. Besides, we’ll need to make some room in the freezer.”

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice the way Hannibal froze in his tracks for a solid five seconds.

\---

“Our friend Marco is an even bigger dickhead than we previously thought,” Will told Hannibal from his seat at the island. Hannibal paused at the fridge and cast him a curious glance over his shoulder. Will glanced up from his laptop, lips twisting into a smirk. “It’s quite easy to access public criminal records if you know where to look--even in Cuba. Public intoxication, multiple domestic disturbances. Get this: he’s had a court-ordered child support imposed on him _six times._ Guess how many of those directives he’s followed?”

“I’d guess none,” Hannibal drawled as he opened the door and began poking around the contents of the shelves. He emerged once more with two small dishes of custard and a small bowl of a what looked to be a caramel sauce, setting the lot of it down on the counter across from Will. “Does this solidify your desire to pay Señor Alvarez a visit?”

That pulled his attention more fully, and Will gazed at Hannibal, fighting the frown that attempted to pull at his lips. “I didn’t need anything to _solidify_ this decision, Hannibal. I want to do this. More over, I want to do this _with you.”_

That set a pleased, smug smile about Hannibal’s mouth, which Will immediately itched to remove. “How will you do it?”

“We can’t display him unless you’re ready to leave Cuba,” Will pointed out, and the seemingly innocuous comment only reminded him that the life they had built in this place was not permanent. His heart ached at the thought of leaving the place they had made their first home so soon. “I don’t,” he added in a blurted declaration before Hannibal could even respond, eyes refocusing back onto the computer screen before him. “Want to leave. I...want to stay. A while longer, at least.”

Hannibal finished the delicate swirl of sauce over the custard that he had been occupying himself with, slid the dish across to Will. He could feel his gaze upon him, finally risked a glance up; the fond, gentle smile that Hannibal wore stole his breath more effectively than the man’s blade ever did. “Then we won’t display him,” he agreed softly. “We won’t leave.”

“Can we just bring him here?” Will asked, reaching forward to drag the dessert closer. He snatched up the proffered fork that sat between them as well. “Make him disappear first and decide later?”

Hannibal picked up his own fork, waited, as was his custom, for Will to take the first bite. “We can do whatever you want, Will.”

Will smiled at that, happy to find that he believed Hannibal, believed that he had no ulterior motives or machinations to pull at Will’s strings. It had been happening more and more since the Atlantic spat them out, since they hopped onto a boat and sailed into a new life. He had agency, and for the first time in their relationship Hannibal was only working toward encouraging it, rather than manipulating it.

He locked gazes with Hannibal once more as he sliced a bite of custard from his dish with his fork. It practically melted on his tongue, smooth and sticky and sweet, and Will let his eyes slip closed in pleasure.

\---

It only took one week of observation to determine that Alvarez was a laughably predictable creature, only one week more to solidify their game plan with burgeoning confidence. 

“Let’s pick someone a bit more challenging next time,” Will suggested as they dropped the weight between them onto the tarp on their basement floor. He dropped to his haunches to begin tugging the shoes off of the unconscious man. “And we really should find a place more suited to our needs, next time. There’s not even a drain in the floor,” he grumbled his complaint with a grunt as he tugged the jeans down and off.

“I didn’t want to presume,” Hannibal began as he stripped the clothes from the torso. “Though I had hoped that we might--I didn’t wish to pressure you--”

“Hannibal,” Will cut in, saving the man from his floundering half-sentences (no matter how satisfying it was to see Hannibal without a proper response to something). “If I didn’t want to kill with you I would have brought it up a long time ago. Probably on the boat. Like, as soon as we were both conscious.”

His lover shot him a look that threatened to distract him thoroughly from the task at hand, and Will was grateful that they had only knocked the man into unconsciousness rather than drugging him when he began to stir with a groggy moan.

“Get his hands, please,” Will instructed, moving to straddle Alvarez’s hips, sitting back upon the man’s thighs to pin legs down with his weight. Hannibal seized the man’s wrists and pulled his arms taut above his head, hands clenched knuckle-white to subdue him completely. “If we had a table with restraints we could have some proper fun,” he told him, though the scolding tone had dropped from his voice. He could hear the anticipation, the excitement in his own tone and marvelled at it. In all honesty, he didn’t care if they did this in a fully decked-out murder room or in the basement on a tarp or even in some dank, black alley where they could only stab their target and let him drop and rot. He was just glad to be doing it at all, to be doing it with Hannibal. Finally.

How right the doctor had been about him. How much grief he might have saved themselves, everyone else around them, if he had only trusted Hannibal back then. Hannibal had his trust now. He had every inch of Will’s trust, every modicum of respect and admiration, every inky black, disease-ridden ounce of his dark and terrible love.

“Marco!” Will trilled as the man’s eyes blinked open blearily. He shut out the small voice inside him that told him how very much he sounded like sadistic, batshit crazy Mason Verger with his sing-song tone. He corrected it at once, continuing on in a flat voice. “So good of you to join us.”

Marco Alavrez thrashed beneath him as soon as he became aware of his situation (Well, as aware as he _could_ become. Poor Señor Alvarez could never truly guess at the horror that was about to befall him.). Hannibal’s hands gripped tighter on their victim’s wrists and Will shifted his weight down the legs slightly when he felt a bit of give in the man’s knees as he bucked up.

“Ah, ah, come on now, none of that,” Will scolded as he reached over to claim the knife they’d set out beside them in preparation. “I know it must be truly _unbearable_ to have the hands of a couple of _maricones_ on you,” he spat the word with as much venom as he could muster and Alvarez froze then, perhaps recognizing them from the noteless alley he’d been passing through a fortnight before. “Don’t worry. You’ll have bigger things to worry about soon enough.”

He drew the knife up to hover over the body beneath him, pausing to contemplate where he would like to begin. Alvarez’s bare torso was a blank canvas, begging for color. Will set the tip to his sternum and pulled a line down the length of him to end at his navel; deep enough for red to bloom, to cause the man to redouble his thrashing and cry out in pain, but shallow enough to keep his insides inside. For the time being.

“I can’t decide if I want to slit your throat and be done with it or open you up alive to take what we want,” he told the man honestly. To Will’s mixed amusement and disgust, Alvarez began to weep. It was clear that he could understand English, but the pleas for mercy to them, to God, flowed from his tongue in Spanish. “Hannibal?” Will prompted, turning his attention to his partner for the first time.

“Whatever you choose,” he rumbled back, accent thick and eyes dark with desire, “I will be honored and enraptured to view it.”

“My lover could open you up, probably get half your organs out before you would succumb to shock,” Will told his mark, “My hands aren’t as steady. Better to end you quickly, I think, and let him handle the tricky work.”

“I’ll teach you,” Hannibal said on a breath then, and it sounded like a promise. 

“Perhaps someone else that may have found you would have helped to show you the error of your ways, helped you to correct the wrongs that have followed in the wake of your existence. I’m sorry to say that you won’t be finding that kind of salvation here,” the volume of Will’s voice rose to sound over the plea that had begun to fall from Alvarez’s lips once again. “But I can promise you now that your death will have meaning, which will give your life meaning. We are going to eat you, Marco. Your pitiful existence will end but your body will nourish us, make us stronger. You will have purpose.”

Those are the words that ferry Marco Alvarez into the next life; a breath later, Will’s knife is drawn across the man’s throat. A violent surge of blood burst forth, impossibly hot over Will’s hands, and then the pulse of red began to diminish from moment to moment, until the remaining blood merely seeped from the gash sluggishly. Not long after, Marco stopped his thrashing.

“Your fury is truly beautiful to behold,” Hannibal spoke softly, as though worried that his voice would break the spell that had woven around them. If anything, he only enchanted Will further. He tipped his head up from watching the rivers of red run across the ever paling torso. Hannibal’s eyes were dark with desire, pupils blown wide and jaw drawn tight; his expression promised Will blood and passion and ecstasy.

He clambered off of his perch, crawled forward until he could reach at Hannibal’s shirt, hair, and pulled him close for a fierce kiss. Their clothes were shed before the body had even cooled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies to all of you who have waited so patiently for me to get my act together and get this second piece posted. 
> 
> As always thank you for reading, and I'm on [Tumblr](https://raiast.tumblr.com/).

**Author's Note:**

> I did a bit of research and in Cuba 'maricón' in Spanish is slang for possibly the worst thing you could call a homosexual. That brute. Don't worry though, there will be a second chapter to this installment in which Will and Hannibal show the ignorant prick the error of his ways. You can imagine how. So, heads up now for some canon-typical violence in the next bit. (I think it's a little silly to warn about such a thing when we are all here for the murdery goodness just as much as the smut, but better to be on the safe side.)


End file.
